Dark Intentions
by ElphabaAngelofMusic
Summary: "You got infected. You got a fever. You died. Well nobody mentioned the part where you came back…" Annabelle Baudin's mother is murdered and she's left to deal with the end of the world. She then finds what looks like a stopwatch amidst her boyfriend's things. But as she presses the button, things begin to grow bizarre…


**Don't worry, I am still updating Frozen in Time. I just got this idea the other day and wanted to find out what the reaction would be to it. So please review your thoughts on the first chapter. Please enjoy also! :)**

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Dark Intentions

I hadn't seen the blood at first. I wish I hadn't. A cry ripped free as I staggered forwards. Ivory walls trickled with blood, matching the patterns on the fridge, on the table tops, on the cupboards, all over Mum…

A lump caught in my throat and I dived for the sink, groaning as the disgusting fluid trickled from my mouth in the same way. Oh god that only made me feel sicker!

Clammy hands pushed back my hair and I offered no protest as I pressed my sweaty forehead against my arms.

"We can't bring her with us. We haven't got time to bury her in the yard."

His words were barely comprehensible to me. It was what wasn't said that held the most meaning.

We need to leave her here. Leave her to get eaten by those things. Leave her to end up as nothing more than a mangled corpse.

I vomited again. She deserved more than this.

I nodded, waiting until the room stopped spinning and I was certain I wasn't going to throw up all over the kitchen floor. Not that it mattered given the state that it was in, but the room felt like her grave.

I braved one last look at the corpse sprawled against the checkered tiles, biting back the vile at both the sight and the smell. Against the revulsion, I found it strange that…well that they hadn't eaten yet. Perhaps they were distracted. It wasn't as though they had much of an attention span.

I tossed some essentials into an overnight bag. It was only a few toiletries, bits of clothing and underwear, and a couple of photographs. I tossed the handle over my head, allowing Jamie to escort me downstairs. I didn't glance towards the kitchen. The last image wasn't great but at least her head had still been in one piece.

We'd hardly made it through the door before we saw them. They weren't exactly difficult to miss. They staggered forwards, every bone in their newly deceased bodies crying out for the taste of flesh. If it wasn't so revolting or so cannibalistic, I might have felt sorry for them. But then I remembered how one of these abominations killed my Mum and I felt nothing but driven hatred.

Jamie thrust a baseball bat within my hands and then I was stampeding forwards, my weapon crunching against the paper skulls of the undead. One by one, I allowed my rage to spill out like the mangled brains of the corpses I fought. They didn't frighten me, they couldn't. Because if I was bit, Jamie would kill me and perhaps with the way the world was going, it would be a better end anyway.

I ignored the looks Jamie was giving. It was as though he expected me to break down and surrender at any moment. He might not have been wrong but what did he expect? I wanted every last stinking one of them to become extinct as quickly as they had been created. But the world didn't work like that anymore…

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Daylight streamed through the thin layer of our tent, welcoming me back from one nightmare to another. The sun had appeared and for a moment, I could pretend that this was a silly last minute trip. But there was no chirping of birds in the treetops and no sound of carefree laughter from other campers. Instead, there was an aching silence. But it was when the screaming began that you needed to worry.

_The catastrophic_ _influenza_ was the term they had used in the beginning. People were panic buying and insisting to every last reporter that hell was going to rain on earth. The irony was that I don't believe they meant that literally but voilà.

It was laughed off. People insisted that it was another 2012 thing.

But then things got very real, very fast.

You got infected.

You got a fever.

You died.

Well nobody mentioned the part where you came back…

It's not so funny when your child, sibling, parent or friend is suddenly trying to tear chunks from your skin and you have to put a bullet through their head.

With a weary sigh, I dragged myself from the slightly warm sleeping bag to race into a pair of jeans and a tank top. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun once I changed. Even with the sun beating down, it got a little chilly at six in the morning, or whatever time it was.

Showering obviously was out of the question. Washing in river water was a privilege. The end of the world wasn't as glamorous as it was in Hollywood.

The stench of stinking campfire welcomed me as I pulled back the zip of our tent. I pulled my leather boots on and then marched over to the campsite nestled in the flurry of trees. There were ten others in camp chairs already. I murmured sleepy greetings as I wondered past.

The whooshing water wasn't able to conceal the sound of raised voices. I paused mid-step, glancing round before recognizing them. This couldn't be good.

When I reached the two figures, it was already growing pretty intense. Sam's blonde hair swung wildly as he was knocked back against a tree. Jamie paced forwards, a sneer on his face as he pressed his arm into Sam's neck.

"Hey, hey, hey, that's enough!" I exclaimed, instantly pulling the two apart. "What's the problem this time?"

"Why don't you ask this douchebag? He was the one to fly at me."

I gasped, dragging Jamie's body backwards again. It was like fighting against a bag of heavy rocks but he finally relented.

"'Caught him stealing from the medicine bag. I'm sick and tired of him thinking he can do as he pleases!"

I turned back, catching Sam's bewildered stare as he threw his arms up in the air. "You're insane! I had a bloody headache so I took a paracetamol. Do we need your permission for everything these days?"

I called his name as he began to march away but Sam ignored me. Reluctantly, I turned back to Jamie. He was stood like a petulant child, arms crossed over his chest, all broody and pouting.

"You both need to stop acting like children. This camp relies on the two of you."

I tugged my arm back when he reached for me. I might have understood if it wasn't the bloody end of the world. But fighting wasn't exactly a top priority anymore, unless it was against the dead.

I marched back to our tent, offering weary smiles on the way. I was sick of defending him. We had all lost someone.

I rummaged through his rucksack. He had to be on them again. I sighed as the packet of capsules fell into my hand. Well that explained his behavior.

A sparkle caught my eye. I turned my head, eyes falling onto a golden circular object. Picking it up, my hands glided against the strange carvings before opening it from the side. I frowned as a digital clock appeared beyond the front. It seemed familiar somehow.

I sniffed at it, winching at the musky smell of furniture polish. My frown deepened as I stared bewilderedly at the numbers. It said 1870.

It reminded me of a stopwatch, with a small button at the top. Curious, my finger hovered before pressing.

Everything moved so fast, a blur around me. One minute, I was trapped inside a barely warm tent, daylight streaming through. The next,-and with superior force-it was as though light had dissolved and I was buried under a coat of blackness, with nothing but the stars for company.

I blinked rapidly, shivering at the icy breeze which caught hold of my arms. I braved a few stumbling steps forwards. The stench of whiskey had me heaving as my hands reached, pressing against either side. The rough edge of stone cut into my palms. I must have been in an alleyway.

I froze again as sudden warm air tingled against the back of my neck.

"Well aren't you a peculiar looking one?" A rough voice whispered.

My eyes widened as I paused, arms beginning to rise as I prepared myself. Humans couldn't have been much more difficult to fight than the undead were.

A chilled hand pressed to my arm and I was attacking. Releasing his hold, he howled as I twisted his arm, shoving him backwards and raising a leg to kick him. I smiled as he keeled over with a groan. Turning, I prepared to run. I would have continued if it wasn't for the drastic change around me.

It was like a scene from an old movie. Horse drawn carriages galloping along a cobbled street, women and men dressed in Victorian fashion. It was all long dresses, groomed hair, top hats and formal attire. It was completely diverse compared with my chosen apocalyptic outfit.

A firm hand caught me by the shoulder as I attempted to run.

I panicked, swinging my elbow backwards and feeling a smidge of satisfaction at his groan as it collided with his chest. With him distracted, I lifted my arm so that his hand dropped. Before I could take a step, his hand reached out and gripped my wrist, twirling me round.

I blinked, trying to distinguish the shadow buried underneath darkness. I swung an arm again, prepared to fight.

He ducked from my attack, grasping both of my arms in a vice hold.

"Let go of me!" I squirmed, stepping closer towards the glare of the street lamp.

"Annabelle, is that you?"

I froze. How the hell did he know my name?


End file.
